


SHSL King

by 56leon



Series: Murderverse [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa, Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, Pre-Despair, pre-AM, procrastination oneshot, there's not much to tag this as
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 09:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2502245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/56leon/pseuds/56leon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the Murderverse. </p><p>The story of Kageyama Tobio, and why he gave up Hope’s Peak in favor of a family.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>No spoilers for A Murder, Haikyuu!!, or Danganronpa.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	SHSL King

**Author's Note:**

> Alternately titled, In Which Hinata Shouyou is Indirectly Responsible for the Formation of SHSL Despair. 
> 
> I'm so sorry for not updating in forever! College has been a real kick in the ass. Here's a oneshot to appease your poor souls while I get Kageyama's murder trial finished up.

**PRE-DESPAIR - SHSL KING**

For any normal middle school student living in Japan, Hope’s Peak Academy was seen as impossible; only the best of the best attended the prestigious school, a mere sixteen students a year in contrast to the millions that populated the island nation.

However, Kageyama Tobio wasn’t a normal middle schooler, and as much as his teammates loathed to admit it, he was the best in the nation at his game. Or if he wasn’t, then he damn well had the potential to be. The stuck up “King of the Court” was the only setter in Japan capable of what he was able to do, and the members of Kitagawa Daiichi knew it. The problem was that nobody was able to spike on par with his skills to be effective.

That reason, and that reason alone, was why Kageyama sat in his room on a hot July morning, glaring at the piece of paper in his hands. _You’ve been accepted!_ was scrawled across the top of the page in cursive English, with the Japanese translation underneath it in smaller kanji.

_Stuck up bastards._

(Like he really had room to talk, according to most of his own team.)

Still, he held the flyer carefully, wondering if being known as the best young setter was really worth going to such a ritzy high school for. His parents had immediately jumped on the idea, enticed by words such as _guaranteed success_ (something desperately seeked by the mother and father whose genius setter couldn’t understand calculus, English _or_ biology to save his life) and _full ride scholarship_ (although not as important as a successful education, scholarships were something that even the wealthiest families took into consideration, and the Kageyama household was no exception). Tobio himself, however, hadn’t really taken an interest in the private school until the flyer came in the mail, along with a less professional letter, his name scrawled messily along the edge of the envelope in barely legible katakana.

He set the formal school letter to the side and opened the crumpled white envelope, wholly unsurprised when an equally disheveled piece of paper greeted him, looking as though it was crammed in there like one would throw old homework into their locker. His name was once again repeated at the top of the paper, and he noticed that the handwriting didn’t get any better as he skimmed the letter.

“I cordially congratulate you on your acceptance...title of Super High-School Level Sport’s Manager...survey your abilities in the upcoming tournament?” Kageyama grumbled to himself as he realized that he would have his own audience at a tournament, for the first time since his parents stopped attending them upon his request. Hopefully he wouldn’t be as energetic as them, having the experience of a _professional_ sports team manager and all.

With a resigned sigh, he threw the paper onto his bedside table and turned over; he would save the worrying for when he actually cared.

Kageyama curled up, seeking heat to protect him from the cool breeze of his A/C system, and finally drifted to sleep, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t have the same dreams that had plagued him for far too long.

 

* * *

 

_"I don't care if you're the super high-whatever, and I damn well don't care if you're the king of the court! I'll knock you offa your stinking pedestal!"_

“Che, who does he think he is?” Kageyama muttered to himself angrily, leaving behind the cocky redhead he had just met right outside the bathroom. People like that pissed him off, kids who thought that they could just do anything they wanted just because they had an _idea_ , or a _goal_.

With a snort, he returned to the rest of his team, ignoring the glares that his presence received. He was almost done with the season; there was no point in causing trouble with people he would probably never see again in his life. “Kageyama,” the sharp voice of the team captain made him turn slightly, a scowl still etched on his face from moments prior. “There’s a guy here for you. Make it quick.” The captain jerked his head towards a tall man leaning against the bleacher railings, looking very out of place among the other volleyball players and their parents.

“Kageyama Tobio?” The man glanced down at him and raised an eyebrow, even though Kageyama himself should have been the one surprised. This was no doubt that Nidai Nekomaru was an athletic man, with his strong build and wide frame, but Kageyama had to wonder why he was a sports manager instead of an athlete himself. He nodded, glaring unintentionally at Nekomaru. The SHSL Sports Manager either didn’t notice or ignored the act completely, continuing. “You know who I am, so I'll cut to the chase: all I'm doing today is watching you play. You've already been accepted to Hope's Peak, so don't worry about getting that revoked." He paused before continuing. "Of course, that doesn't mean you have to attend, either, but you better have a good reason to throw away a chance like that."

Before Kageyama could reply, a whistle blew behind him, and Nekomaru had already turned away to survey the opposing team, the first of his many opponents of the day.

They weren't an impressive lot - or rather, they were impressive in the fact that they had the courage to step onto the volleyball court. None of them were much taller than Kitagawa Daiichi’s shortest player, and they all looked like first years. Yet a certain redhead stood at the front of the small pack, the one who had claimed victory over him - the _King of the Court_ , of all people - wearing the crest of the team captain.

It was pitiful.

The game wasn’t much better, either, and it was almost laughable how poorly the group functioned, not only separately but also as a team. How they even _qualified_ for a volleyball team was beyond him. They lacked any cohesion, any _semblance_ of a team structure-

 _Kageyama Tobio, you godforsaken_ hypocrite-

and yet there was something about #1, the team captain, that set him on edge. He was too soft on his team, too weak to do anything useful for them, but when he hit that spike...

He _flew_.

Kageyama shook his head, trying to hid his thoughts of the redheaded spiker from a school not worth remembering. He was the supposed _SHSL Setter_ , he didn’t need to be distracted by somebody he would never see again.

“Hey, you!”

He stopped in his tracks upon hearing that voice. Of course he knew who it was, of course he wasn’t going to turn around-

He turned around.

“I-I’m not going to be beat again,” the kid shouted, and Kageyama barely noticed his teammates walking away, not wanting to get involved in whatever squabble “his highness” had started this time. “Do you hear me? I’m going to stand on top of the world, and if that means beating you, then I’ll do it!”

Kageyama watched as tears trickled down his cheeks, sniffling like an absolute _idiot_ , and tried not to feel anything than contempt for the redhead. “Then become stronger,” he finally replied, and turned back to where the rest of his team (no longer teammates, he doubted they had enough respect to call him a _mate_ anymore) was waiting. The faint shouts of _Thanks!_ reached his ears, but felt no need to turn around to see the naive boy make a fool of himself in front of his useless teammates.

(He still _had_ teammates.)

“...You did good out there today, kid.” Kageyama had barely noticed the imposing man leaning against a nearby wall, and he turned his attention to Nidai relatively quickly, glaring once again. “No wonder the headmaster wants you in so badly.” Nekomaru smirked, glancing at the boy whose visage had suddenly turned darker. “What’s with that look on your face? Are you saying you don’t want to go to Hope’s Peak?”

The question bothered Kageyama, but not as much as the answer he knew he would give. “If I go to Hope’s Peak...would I have a team to play with?”

“Che. I was hoping you wouldn’t ask.” Nekomaru’s own expression soured as well. “Even if there _were_ enough players for a volleyball team, the board wouldn't allow us to play against other high schools. We’re a school of _prodigies_ , so of course we’d have an unfair advantage. The most you’d be able to do is practice, and hope you can get an exhibition match or two in before you’re booted up to the big leagues - that, of course, is guaranteed.”

 _No team..._ Kageyama winced at the thought. _No team meant no team practices...and no matches..._ the green uniform from earlier flashed in his mind, that redheaded mass that demanded they play against each other in the future. _Tch. Why do I care about what that idiot thinks he wants?_

Still, he couldn’t help that seed of doubt that settled in the pit of his stomach. “I...I have to think about it,” he said finally, not wanting to admit that he was being held back by a _nobody_ \- a nobody with _wings_ , but still not somebody worth mentioning. “I need a team to play.”

Nidai sighed loudly. “Have it your way, kid, but the position won’t be your for much longer. There are Super High-School Level excellers all vying for their chance to get into the Academy, and I’m sure that the next runner-up wouldn’t mind in the least if you bailed out. What is she...a _fashionista_ , I think.” Shrugging, Nidai kicked himself away from the wall and took a few steps away, before looking back at Kageyama through the corner of his eye. “It’s your life, kid. Nobody’s going to tell you what to do with it.”

Without even turning back, the Sports Manager strode away, leaving Kageyama behind with a few wise words and more than a few doubts.

 

* * *

 

“So how was your-”

“It went fine.” Kageyama barely even stopped when his mother addressed him, instead hurrying to his bedroom to dump his bag. As he threw it into the corner by his bed, a draft lifted a piece of paper from his bedside drawer, and it floated gently onto his bed. “Che, this again-”

He stopped, holding the paper in his hands and feeling its crisp corners.

_“We’re a team of prodigies-”_

_“I’ll knock you offa your stinking pedestal!”_

_“-won't allow us to play against other high schools.”_

_“I’m going to stand on top of the world, and if that means beating you, then I’ll do it!”_

_“It’s your life, kid. Nobody’s going to tell you what to do with it.”_

Lines circled in his head, words that meant something, with meanings he couldn’t really catch up to. He knew nobody was going to tell him what to do with his life, but it still felt like he was controlled, this feeling of expectations-

A smirk left his lips for the first time that day since he faced that short boy, and his other hand reached up to grip the paper tightly - before tearing straight down, destroying the invitation that was apparently so treasured by others. If they wanted it, they could _have_ it.

“I have to show that idiot that I’m going to be standing on top of the world, no matter what he thinks.” Two strips of cream fluttered to the floor. “And if that means beating him on the _high school_ circuit...so be it.”

And thus, his thoughts of Hope’s Peak Academy ceased, and for the first time in a very long while, Kageyama found the drive which had eluded him for so long - the drive that would be destroyed soon after, but still fueled him for as little a middle school career the prodigy had.

“I don’t need to be the Super High-School Level Setter...I’m still the King of the Court.”


End file.
